


View From The Other Side

by Creej



Series: White Collae RPF [2]
Category: White Collar, White Collar RPF
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-25 02:40:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10755051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creej/pseuds/Creej
Summary: This is a companion piece to Neal Meets Neal, telling Neal's experiences in living Matt's life for two days.





	View From The Other Side

**Author's Note:**

> For Delphene_Lukas13 since she kindly asked for this story. :)

Neal opened his eyes and frowned. What the...?

"Why is there no ceiling?" he asked himself, sitting up. He recognized where he was - his loft at June's - but there were major differences: most notably, catwalks in place of a ceiling, cameras and mics, only three walls. He was in a studio.

He hurriedly got up, casting around for something to wear. Instead of his preferred suits, he found jeans and a cotton button down shirt and quickly dressed, looking somewhat shocked when he saw his bare ankle. No tracker. Immediately, his mind went to what he could do, where he could go now that he wasn't leashed. The whole city, the whole *world* was within his reach. A grin spread across his face as he slipped on a pair of tennis shoes and opened the door. He saw, not the stairs he was expecting, but a glimpse of another set. Curious, he went to look - it was the Burke's living room. He couldn't help remembering hiding behind the bookcase after Elizabeth had snuck him in past the detail outside so he could explain to Peter what he'd found out about Fowler, sitting at the table as he asked for Peter's help on June's behalf.

Peter... If he was here, who was in his loft?

"You're here early."

He spun around at the voice and came face to face with someone who looked remarkably like his partner. "Yeah, thought I'd get a jump on the day," he said as casually as he could.

"Want to run lines until everyone else gets here?" Not-Peter asked. "I think we could do better on that one scene."

"Okay, sure," Neal said. "Umm, you have an extra script? Can't seem to find mine."

"I think you left it in your dressing room," Not-Peter said. "Come on, we'll run lines while you get dressed."

Neal sighed in relief - he couldn't find "his" dressing room if he didn't know who he was supposed to be - and followed the other man.

They stopped in front of a door that was identical to half a dozen others except that this one had the name Matt Bomer on it. Next to it was one that bore the name Tim DeKay.

"I'll just get mine," Tim said. "Give me a sec."

So, he was supposedly Matt Bomer, an actor. But what was the movie? Or was it a series? He found out when he entered the dressing room, seeing a script on the make-up table. He sat in the chair and flipped through it. White Collar. Fitting, he thought, since he was a consultant for the white collar division. As he waited for the other man, he looked around the room. On the table in front of him was a picture in a tasteful frame, showing a man with three boys, all smiling at the camera. Brother and nephews maybe? He set the question aside, spotting his suits hung up on a rack, his hats on a shelf. He was interrupted in his perusal when Tim came back, carrying his own script.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Sure. Which scene?" Neal asked, turning to the one Tim specified.

As they ran the lines, Neal felt himself settling into his role, privately amused that he was playing an actor who was playing him. But he also knew he'd have to play the role until he could get back home. This wasn't the usual undercover operation. He'd heard of deep cover but had never done it himself.

At one point, an assistant poked her head in and informed both of them to get into wardrobe. Fortunately for Neal, Tim picked a suit off the rack, laying it over the chair he'd vacated. He quickly stripped off the jeans and shirt after Tim left, feeling more himself as he put on the suit, knotting the tie with practiced ease. As he tied his shoes, someone else came in and he froze for a split second when he saw the familiar tracker.

"Foot up," the woman said. A little reluctantly, he did as instructed and she snapped it into place. "On set in five," she said as she left.

He spent a few minutes examining the anklet, noting the differences immediately - it was lighter, not made of the high-impact plastic as his and, most importantly - at least to him - he could take it off whenever he wanted without fear of the Marshals coming after him. With a grin, he went to join the other cast members on set.

 

If he seemed a little off throughout the day, nobody said anything to him. If he referred to the cast by the names *he* knew them by - Peter rather than Tim, Elizabeth rather than Tiffani, Moz rather than Willie - he could tell they passed it off as his being in character. Evidently Matt was known for really getting into a role.

It was late when he was confronted with the next problem. But it wasn't really a problem since a car was waiting to take him home. On the way, he reflected on the actor's life - it was more exhausting than he thought it'd be. Long hours, multiple takes, barely having time to eat, especially if you were one of the stars. He knew as a con man he had to be an actor of sorts but even during a long con, he was able to shed the persona at the end of the day. He didn't think he'd be able to do that here.

The car pulled up in front of an apartment building and he felt a moment's panic. Which one was Matt's? He pulled out the wallet, intending to tip the driver and got a glance at the driver's license.

"Thank you sir," the driver said, giving him a nod as he got out. He waited until the car pulled away then entered the building, making his way to the apartment that was listed on the license. He reached into his pocket, sorting through the keys until he found the right one, glad he didn't have to pick the lock.

The apartment was more spartan than he expected and Neal had no qualms about snooping around - he was, to all intents and purposes, the one who lived here. A look in the fridge told him Mr. Bomer was a healthy eater and didn't drink much. The closet told him he preferred to dress much more casually than Neal himself - jeans, T-shirts, button downs, sneakers - rather than suits, vintage or not.

He sat on the edge of the bed, his mind refusing to settle despite the late hour. He listed the things he knew to be fact. He was an actor by the name of Matt Bomer. He was a costar of a show called White Collar. The tracker was just a prop. The show was in its fourth season. He was close friends with the other costar, Tim DeKay. He grinned wryly at the next fact: they had someone to teach him the basic skills of a con man - lock picking and pickpocketing - never mind he was better than the expert. Although, to be fair, the man had serious skills.

As he readied for bed, the question of where Matt was returned. Since he was living Matt's life, was Matt living his? Would he be able to fool the people who knew Neal as he was fooling those who knew Matt? Matt wasn't a con man although, once he thought about it, actors *were* cons of a sort.

When he woke the next morning, he was hoping the day before had been a dream but he was quickly disabused of the idea when he opened his eyes to Matt's apartment, not his loft. So, another day playing actor for him.

He had enough time to dress and scrounge some breakfast before there was a knock on the door.

"You about ready, Matty?"

"Coming!" He grabbed a jacket as he opened the door to find Tim.

On the way to the studio, they discussed the day's schedule which included the faux boxing match between Peter and Neal. They'd spend a few hours choreographing the fight so make sure neither was seriously injured - just as Peter and he had actually done. Neal found it a little surreal and a lot jarring, knowing the series followed his life so closely but he admitted the writers had him and Peter pegged. And Tim's portrayal bordered on uncanny. He could believe Tim *was* Peter if he didn't know better.

They made it through the fight scene, Neal keeping his very real anger at Peter under control, reminding himself that his costar wasn't who he was mad at, reminding himself that no one was who they appeared to be - they were just actors playing parts. As the crew set up for the next scene, he had time to think about his situation. If he could go home, would he? Here, he was free, could go wherever he wanted whenever he wanted; there, he was shackled to the Bureau for another year until he finished his sentence. But as he looked around, he saw the people he knew, people he cared about - Peter, Elizabeth, Moz. And Matt...did he really have the right to steal the man's life, even if no one knew? *Especially* if no one knew? Yes, he'd stolen a lot of things - like the Raphael, Washington's love letters, the music box - but he'd never entertained the idea of stealing someone's *life*. Sure, he had aliases but they were as fictional to him as he was to the people on the set. Right now, Matt Bomer was an alias but he wasn't fictional.

Technical difficulties required they wrap earlier than usual and he turned down the ride home, saying he was just going to take a walk. He found himself on Riverside Drive and before he could think twice, went to where he thought June's should be. A knot uncoiled in his stomach when he saw the familiar house. He hadn't realized he was afraid he'd be disappointed at not finding it there.

He looked around with new eyes as he climbed the stairs and entered the loft. Nothing out of place that he could see though there was a bottle of wine missing. Evidently his doppelganger was a considerate guest.

He settled on the terrace, taking in the view, wondering if he'd actually get to meet the man whose place he'd taken. His question was answered when the door opened and he saw someone who could only be Matt Bomer enter.

It was unnerving, coming face to face with his twin but he hid it, glad he was able to school his expression better than the other man, watching as he sat across from him.

"You're taking this rather well."

"I admit to being a little...unnerved," Neal said. "But what kind of con man would I be if I let it show?"

"So, any idea what the hell is going on?" Matt asked.

"Not a clue." He studied Matt for a moment. "I have to admit the resemblance is...uncanny."

"Well, since we're supposed to be the same person..."

As he'd been, Matt had been confused to wake up where he had - in the loft, not his apartment - as he'd been to wake up on a sound stage. And Matt wanted to go home, see someone named Simon and the kids. Simon, his husband. The estimable Mr. Bomer was gay, not something Neal had expected. And he knew more about Neal then Neal knew about him.

"So, when did you start being me?" Neal asked.

"When you walked out of supermax to look for Kate." Neal felt a twinge of grief at the name. "Sorry, I know it still has to hurt. I still remember shooting that scene. Had a little trouble coming back to myself."

"Yeah, it still does a little. So, you know about Hagan, Adler, Fowler, all of that?"

"Pretty much."

He'd suspected that but it was nice to have it confirmed. He asked about things at the office and was informed that Peter had Matt on desk duty until Neal felt better and that Matt was just as bored by embezzlement and mortgage fraud as he was. And that Matt really was a good actor since he said no one suspected he wasn't actually Neal, even though he'd had to remind himself that Peter wasn't Tim, Moz wasn't Willie and so on.

"I've done that but at least I can pass it off as being in character," Neal said, rubbing his ankle, missing the familiar weight of the tracker. Matt noticed and asked if he did.

"Sometimes," he admitted. "But don't tell Peter. He'd never let me live it down."

Matt then told him things he already knew or at least suspected - Peter hadn't threatened him with prison for months, he considered Neal a friend and partner and Peter cared about him. Neal knew he understood since Matt's relationship with Tim was more than just coworkers but close friends as well. He had to grin when Matt asked him to train him in picking pockets. Yes, the consultant they had on set was good but there was something that tickled his fancy about training...himself, really. There was really no way he *couldn't* agree.

As he made dinner, Matt told him Moz had stopped by to tell him Alex was in town but he didn't know why and had left with a bottle of wine. That didn't surprise him - he suspected Moz drank more of his wine than he did. Then Matt asked him how he could afford such expensive wines on what the FBI paid him and he challenged the actor to figure it out. After all, he'd been 'Neal' for four years.

Matt did indeed know him, he found out. He got the money he needed not only from Moz liquidating some of his assets as Matt had said, but from any number of off shore accounts that the Bureau didn't know about.

During dinner, he found out more about the other man - his marriage to Simon, their three boys, how he'd gotten the role of Neal Caffrey, how he and Tim had struck up an immediate friendship and other roles he'd had. In return, Neal fleshed out his backstory, giving him details the writers hadn't put in the scripts or even alluded to. He was even honest about his lack of female companionship since Sara broke it off. That had hurt more than he'd expected.

After they cleaned up after dinner, Neal brought out the bell jacket Moz had used to train Peter and asked Matt to show him what he'd learned, putting his wallet in one pocket, his phone in the other. "Keeping it simple for you at first. Go for the phone," he said. He expected the bump - classic misdirection - but he didn't really expect to find his phone gone. "Not bad at all but remember, index and middle fingers work best, so the thumb doesn't touch the mark." He heard Matt finish with him. "Exactly. Now, go for the wallet."

The lift was much smother that time and he asked who'd been training him even though he already knew. He hadn't known that it had been camera tricks at first however. "He's a good teacher."

"Or I'm a good student," Matt said then suggested they keep going.

He learned that Matt was indeed a good student as he challenged him to lift and drop successively smaller items undetected. One, a button smaller than the bug Peter had dropped on Stanzler a couple years earlier. He was thinking paperclip next but they were both startled by a knock on the door and they exchanged glances. Neal tilted his head toward the bathroom and waited until Matt was out of sight before answering.

"Peter, what brings you here?"

"Just wanted to check on you," Peter said. "I know you haven't been feeling well the last couple days."

"I appreciate it," Neal said. "I'm actually feeling a lot better."

"All right, see you tomorrow," Peter said. "Oh, and El insists you come to dinner tomorrow. Don't be late."

"Looking forward to it," Neal said. He closed the door a bit harder than he knew he had to to let Matt know it was safe to come out. "It was Peter," he said when Matt rejoined him. "Checking up on me."

"Are you going in tomorrow or am I?" Matt asked.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Neal said. "I guess we'll have to see who wakes up with the anklet." He felt Matt regard him as he got another bottle of wine but waited for him to speak.

"Why didn't you take the opportunity to run while you were there? Leave me stuck here, in your life?"

He said nothing as he poured a glass of wine. He'd thought about it of course but Matt deserved to know. "I guess...I guess I realized I'd miss it if I did. Working with Peter, conspiring with Moz, talking to June..." He shrugged then told him the real reason he decided not to skip. "Besides, this is *my* life, not yours. I've stolen a lot of things but never that. Never someone else's life."

The day finally caught up to them and they yawned at the same time then shared an identical grin. He offered Matt the bed, figuring he could handle one night on the couch. Tomorrow would take care of itself. As he listened to Matt settle into sleep, he couldn't help but imagine what it would have been like if the two had been able to work together - either with Peter or running cons. He smiled to himself as he drifted off to sleep.

 

When his alarm went off the next morning, he waited to open his eyes. Would he be on the set as he had been that first morning? Matt's apartment? Or his loft? He opened his eyes and smiled, seeing the familiar view outside the terrace doors and got up to shower and dress. He'd had fun, being Matt those two days, but he was glad to be back in his own life - the long hours, the hot lights, the seemingly endless takes an actor dealt with wasn't for him. He very much preferred the job he had - running government sanctioned cons, catching the bad guys...working with Peter, his friend and partner.

He heard the door open followed by Peter's familiar tread and went out to meet him.

"Ready?" Peter asked.

"Let's go," Neal said, flipping on his hat and grinning when Peter rolled his eyes, taking a last look around before shutting the door behind him.


End file.
